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Friday, February 28, 2014

“Goedemorgen, Claudine!”
Verena hurried over to the young mother who was strolling down a
wooded path near their town home. “May I take a peek at your baby?
Hallo Jans, did I wake you up? What a sweet little boy you are!”
She sighed happily and looked around. “What a perfectly lovely day
to be out for a walk. Aren't spring days beautiful?”

Claudine nodded. “ Pieter and
Nicholaes do not play too far from the path. We need to go home after
awhile to make supper for your father.”

“Where is Margriete?” Verena asked
while she was making silly facial expressions to get the rosy cheeked
lad to giggle.

Claudine fell silent. At least it
doesn't have a dungeon like Ypres does. She suddenly felt cold and it
had nothing to do with the stirring of a summer-like breese. How I
would hate to be confined to a dark prison cell when the air is so
fresh and there are all kinds of interesting things to do. She felt
her grip tighten around the baby's small form. Verena didn't notice
Claudine's change of mood. She was already rushing back to chat with
Margriete.

“Mama!” Pieter called. “May
I hold Jans please?”

Claudine handed the baby to his
brother who promptly sat down in the grass and entertained him by
tickling his face with a daisy.

What happy, sweet children I have, and
such a good husband. Why then am I feeling cast-down in my soul, all
of a sudden? Claudine started singing and the rich, pure tones filled
the air with a rare beauty.

Claudine had a good soup cooking by the
time Piersom entered the door. Claudine quirked her eyebrows. He
didn't bound in with his usual boisterous good humor.

Piersom motioned for her to step
outside.

“Margariete, you can start feeding
Jans. He's so hungry after all that fresh air this afternoon. Yes,
Piersom?”

Her husband closed the door behind
Claudine before speaking. Then he laid his hands on her shoulders and
looked deep into her warm, brown eyes. “ Hendric matched my step as
I was returning home from work.”

Claudine nodded. Why such a sober
look?

“Titelmannus is out and about.”

“Who is he?” Why did I whisper?

“The Dean of Ronse.”

When his wife still wore a blank
expression, Piersom continued, “The Inquisitor. A pious councillor
warned me to flee. I will hide in yonder woods.”

“Could you not pause to sup with us?
You must be tired after such a long day.”

“Nay, I must hasten. He may have
rounded up the bailiffs already to come and fetch me.” He turned to
go, then paused. “You come, to, Claudine. They may be after you as
well.”

Claudine knew the danger they were in.
“I will fetch the baby, but you go! Go! Don't wait for me! I'll be
but a moment later.”

“Where's Papa?”

“Why doesn't Papa come in for
supper? I am hungry!”

“Papa and I are going for a little
walk. Go ahead and eat. Pieter, you can lead in prayer. Hallo Janzie!
My what a sopping wet baby! Did he eat much?”

Margariete nodded. “Everything that
I mashed up for him.”

Claudine quickly and deftly changed
the baby's sodden garments then hurried out the door.

She saw a ragtag, but determined
looking bunch of men heading down the street so ducked into the woods
and quickened her pace.